A Shell of What Was Once
by MournfulSeverity
Summary: Lily saved him. And again. More times than he could count. But he couldn't save her. He kept going though, holding on for the war, walking on in her name as the memories of her face fell away. Until the memories were worn so thin that he stepped into the place he most hated just to touch them again. A letter. A photograph. The memory of a moment. Enough to keep him going…to the end


**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to JK Rowling

**Prompt:** In times of hardship, I cling to the moments I remember, the moments of love and kindness that you showed me. For a brief moment, it is almost as if I can find peace. (Write about a forbidden love, a forbidden friendship, and the moments that made it mean to much.) [ Bonus +2 for First Person, +3 for Second Person. ]

**The List:** #56 and #63

**Gigantic thank you to my beta, iNiGmA! What would I do without you, lady?**

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I paused at the golden nameplate that hung askew on the mahogany door. The plate was marked with black, letters that had corroded in the time since it had been hung. The letters were blurry. Obscured by the iniquity in my eyes, the shame that threatened to roll down my cheeks. But, I knew what it read all the same. "Sirius."

My hand fumbled atop the brass handle, cool and smooth beneath my skin, untouched in the months since Sirius' death. I was an intruder here, a trespasser. Unwelcome. I didn't know what it was that brought me here, what hook had dragged me to the doorstep that had belonged to a man I most despised. What thought had ensnared me beyond the door, through the enchantments meant to keep me away. I had taken the steps upward in a daze, the fog I had existed in since my very hands stole yet another life — a life I had never dreamed of taking.

The pain of it had torn along the cracks of my soul, splitting the fiber of my being along the fractures I had long ago created. I had tailored them myself, stitched the holes that had appeared, but the twine lasted only so long. And here I was, threadbare once again.

Was it meant to be this difficult? Had I always been destined for brokenness? For hatred? For an inability to do the right thing? My stomach trembled at the thought, the swells of guilt building inside once more, threatening to consume me.

It was despair that I was wallowing in, as I had done in the seconds that passed since the killing curse left my lips. Albus' death had been the execution of a plan months in the making, a plan I had been forced to agree to. It didn't matter that it was done with mercy, done to spare Draco and others I couldn't imagine, it had been done all the same. It had left metaphorical blood upon my skin, impossible for me to wash it away.

But, despite all the pain, this was war, and my part in it had been secured at an age when I should have known better. In my thirst for power, for retribution, I had become a soldier in a war that never should have been, had become a cog that furthered the machine forward.

With these thoughts, I inclined my head until it came to rest on the wood before me. My grip on the knob slackened. I needed to find some form of strength, needed to have a reason to go on in this war that seemed to have no end.

Albus had imparted some wisdom, buried beneath allegories and insinuations, but much was still unknown, and even more had been imparted to Potter and Potter alone. The boy's only protection from certain death was the horcrux that thrived within him, feeding on his untainted life force like the parasite Voldemort was. It was this fact that quelled the uneasiness swimming in my veins, that provided me focus, the ability to move forward. If there was a way out of this war, it was through him —through Lily's son.

My hand turned finally, the door before me pushing in. The air was stale, swollen with the heaviness of time; the quality of a place that had been forgotten. My footsteps disturbed the dust that lay across the hardwood floor. It lifted into the air, swirling around me before settling once more.

Before me, I could see the miniscule footsteps created by the scurrying of mice, the larger, humanoid prints that could have belonged only to Kreacher; a being I forgot was here entirely. From the corner of my eye, I saw the trickle of black, the tendrils of legs crawling toward me, hanging from the bedpost. My hand outstretched, attempting to meet the spider beside me. It curled in on itself, returning to the safety of the tangled silk above. I found myself more alike the arachnid than anything, for I too was trapped in web; one woven from the lies I had spun.

Everything inside the room had been frozen in time; 1981 to be precise. Although the décor was garish, the muggleness of it surprised me. Unmoving posters were affixed to the wall, surrounding only one magical photograph. I stepped towards it, peering into the square upon the wall that held four boys.

It was strange, to see them smile at one another, genuine affection for one another in each of their eyes. There were no malicious smirks, no outstretched wands. In this photo, gone were the versions of the boys I had known. Instead, they had been replaced by arms slung over shoulders. Laughter.

My eyes fell from the photograph as I moved further, stepping past the unmade bed. Sunlight filtered between the slight crack of the curtains, spilling across the bedclothes and casting shadows upon the walls.

Beside me, I found a desk, its drawers pulled askew. The clutter within was stuffed so tightly that the corners of parchment were visible between the gaps. It was here that I began my destruction, yanking the drawer free of its hold. It protested, the tracks giving way, the wood splitting up the side. I spilled the contents on the floor, quills and dried bottles of ink clattering around my feet, skittering across the wood.

It was intermingled with blank pieces of parchment. I fingered through them, looking for anything that would remind me of her. Instead, interspersed between the pages, I found more photographs. Stolen moments captured, preserved beyond life. Pictures of two young boys, both ones I recognized, a happiness I'd never felt spread across their faces. Both of them were gone now, claimed by the war.

I tossed it aside, shuffling past one of a woman resembling that of Walburga Black, past another of people I didn't recognize, of motorbikes and trivial things. I dropped my hands, sending the stack cascading back to the floor.

My fingers reached for the next drawer, shuffling through bits and bobs that could never hold my interest. Garbage, and nothing more. My vision began to obscure again, filled with an infuriating weakness. I ripped the final drawer away, sending it hurtling across the room. I heard it crash into the opposite wall before splintering onto the floor, causing the dust to consume me once again. There was nothing here. _Nothing._

I stood in front of the bookcase next. Rather than gentle caresses, I grabbed the spines roughly, freeing them from the shelves. One by one, they tumbled to the floor scattering around my feet with ringing thuds. There were some that I shook, hoping that anything of importance might fall free. Instead the pages inside came loose, fluttering down to join the rest of their companions.

With my destruction complete, I crumpled onto the bed in a disappointed, infuriated heap. The room returned to its repose, the silence from before my arrival took hold once more. I stared out at the mess I had made. What organization had been there before now long gone now. Even the floor was obscured by bits of parchment, by photographs of— My eyes narrowed, focusing on the picture that sat in the wreckage alone, separated by the ones of Sirius' family from earlier.

A toddler was straddling a broomstick, the handle seemingly made of plastic, unlike that of a regular broom. He hovered a foot or so above the ground before zooming out of the frame, a grin stretched across his childish features. A pair of socked feet ran after him, followed by a face of painful familiarity. Brilliant auburn hair. She tossed her head back in laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners. And then, the loop began again.

I stood. In my fit of anger, my tantrum, I hadn't noticed it. I was unsure if it came from a drawer, a book. Even the thought that my spider friend of earlier had placed it there crossed my mind for only a moment before I sighed at my ridiculousness. I stepped forward, kneeling and snatched the photo from the ground. To my surprise, it dragged a piece of parchment with it. Parchment that had been scribbled with angular writing; each letter meticulously scrawled...

My eyes scanned the words in haste, knowing this had come from Lily, that _this _was what I had wanted all along. The message was more painful, even, than I had expected. Proclamations of love, for a friend, for _James. _A private exchange that I had no permission to read, words of everyday nonsense. Nevertheless, the tears that I'd been able to keep at bay came spilling free.

With my head bowed, the salt cascaded down, dripping onto the letter held in my shaking hands. They dangled from the tip of my nose, my chin, emasculating me all the while. I brought a hand across my face, wiping away the wet tracks that had been carved into my flesh, the snot that dribbled freely. I turned the page, finding only two more lines and — more importantly — the looping of the letter _L_, large beside the three letters that followed it. I brought the tip of my finger to the script, running it across the words. She had written them over a decade ago, but still the jagged point of her quill tore into my heart.

_Lots of love, Lily_

Without another thought, I tore that page from where it was attached to the first. I folded it gently, placing the scrap inside a pocket of my robes. I balled the other page in my hands, tossing it away. I had no need to read of her family, her friends, the man who had betrayed her. Even though they had come from the quill once gripped in her hand, they gave me no strength.

The picture came next. I creased the center, tearing away the part that contained Lily; the happy, laughing version of her. I chucked the other half away from me, not caring to watch where it fluttered,and clutched the piece of Lily to my chest. I needed her. I craved the love she had once had for me. Our times together...before I sent her away.

My position at Hogwarts loomed over me, in the shapes of shattered relationships I had forged in the years inside those walls. The thought of my return to the place I most despised birthed an ache within me. I had dwelled on those thoughts for far too long.

I glanced again at the photograph in my hands and felt myself folding in time, the barriers of my mind giving way to show the Lily I had known.

It was the summer between third and fourth year that it had really begun. I could still hear the crack of thunder that rang overhead despite the years of distance, could feel the shaking of the floor we laid stretched out upon, the brush of Lily's warm skin against mine. She'd been so full of hope that day, so content as she lay with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, her hair slung over her shoulder. Perhaps I had been too.

It had been simple then, watching the darkening clouds spill onto the concrete. She had turned her head toward me, stared at me with her spring-shaded eyes — the soft features of her face that I was desperate to reach out and touch

"_Severus."_ Her voice was quiet, sweet like sugar as she spoke my name. I said nothing, wanting to hear it again. Instead, she pushed into me with her hip, and I pretended to focus fully on her, when in fact, I already had.

"_Lily,"_ I replied, my voice a low purr, my arm angling around her waist. She relaxed beneath my touch, and I clenched my fingers, drawing them into a fist, dragging them across her skin. A laugh of surprise escaped her, and she attempted to push me away, to free herself from the torture I was inflicting. Still, my fingers worked at her side, tickling the exposed skin until she couldn't breathe between her giggles.

She lay there, panting beneath the fort we had created, the blankets obscuring us from view. The shadows of evening, the bleakness of the storm, had darkened the world around us. With a few blankets and chairs, we had managed to create a world of our own, an alcove free of watchful eyes.

I straightened, folding my legs across each other as I moved into a sitting position. "There's something about storms," I began. "The pattering of rain." She moved, coming up beside me. The intensity of her eyes made me pause as they drew me in, taking me aback with their beauty. She took advantage of the absence of my words and leaned forward. I felt her hand clutch around the fabric of my thin t-shirt, felt the tug of her pulling me closer.

She stared, her face inches from mine, her lip clasped between her teeth. I felt the hitching of my breath, knowing what was to come. I leaned in slowly, closing the distance between us. At first, it was merely a brush of our lips, her mouth soft, tasting of the hot chocolate we had downed moments before, of the marshmallows that had melted across its top. I pressed harder, making my presence known. My own hands moved around her back, and she reciprocated, relaxing into my touch. I felt the vibration of her lips as she murmured my name against me. I tangled my hands through her hair, losing them inside the strands of red I so loved. I basked in the scent of lavender that lingered on her skin, never wanting to part from her when we heard the sounds of footsteps behind us.

Disappointed, we separated, returning to our positions as the steps grew louder. We were illuminated with a flash of lightning, the brightness eclipsing the dark of before. One of the blankets that concealed us was pulled back, revealing the face of Mr. Evans; catching us in our innocence and attempting to find something else entirely.

He was always ready to find me at fault, searching for something for which to dole out punishment What he didn't know was that my ears were pricked for such intentions. Whenever he came close, I had heard him, had pulled away from his daughter and displayed the most convincing face of innocence I could muster. It had been accomplished once again, and the tight line of his lips hardened. The blanket replaced.

We listened to the sound of him drifting farther away once more, the sound that signaled his departure. When we could hear him no more, Lily's head dropped to my shoulder. She laughed, quiet at first before growing louder, this time her laughter having nothing to do with my touch. I smiled, the side of my head meeting hers as lightning broke in front of us once more.

The memory of that day dissolved, having dried my tears, but brought up another.

It had been the very next summer. We were still together, although things had grown tense between us. The arguments had begun. Gone was the carefree feeling of the year before when we had been closed off inside our fort. It was replaced by tension, a fear that we were going to hurt each other once again.

This time there was no storm, no safety of a roof above us. Instead, we had given ourselves to the sweltering heat, had hiked beyond the limits of the village we lived in and into the next. There was a lake just past it that we had been determined to reach, and now we stood at the edges of the water.

Nothing but silence passed between us as the water lapped at our feet, each pull of the tide encroaching further and further uponshore on which we stood. The lake was empty, the two of us being the only visitors; the only people foolish enough to be outside in such heat, and it was for the best.

Lily wrapped her arms around herself, gripping the hem of the white shirt that hung loosely on her frame. She pulled it upwards, over her head, and deposited it on the dirt beside her. I watched, heavily interested in what lay beneath, a fact she knew.. Her hands came next to the tie of her swimsuit, undoing the knot she had made. I watched hungrily as her hands dropped, taking the top of her swimsuit with her.

I stared. At the fullness of her breasts exposed before me, the sloping curves of her waist, her arse. Before I could ask for a touch, she ran towards the water, droplets splashing about her ankles, her knees, her thighs, as she gradually swam deeper. I stepped forward to follow, still clad in a suit of my own, clutching the shirt that covered the unsavory sight of my own body..

The water was colder than I expected, but not as icy as her voice as she yelled from her position in the water. "I don't think so, Sev!"

I paused, my eyebrows dipping together. I had known she was unhappy with me recently, but she seemed to be angrier than I thought.

"This lake has a strict no clothing policy. If you want to swim you must comply."

_Ah. _My confusion formed into a forced smile, but still I hesitated. Before now, we had never seen each other naked. While her figure was glorious and I was anxious to experience more of it, the same couldn't be said for mine. The two of us had never spoken aloud of the abuse I suffered at home. She was aware, I knew she had guessed as much, but the state of my body, the prominence of my ribs, the lashes across my back. It all spoke of what I endured at home more than words could ever say. I was the epitome of not enough. Not enough food. Not enough love.

I didn't want to ruin this moment with my sorrowful tale, didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. Today was meant to be about repairing some of the damage we had caused one another, not creating more.

"Sev…" The brazenness of her voice was gone, replaced instead by acknowledgement, understanding. "You don't have to." She shook her head, her frown evident. "I didn't mean—"

"No, _no." _The second word was harder, forced, I wanted her to understand. I watched her a minute more, her arms moving in circles around her, keeping her head just above water. I stepped first from my bottoms, hoping she wouldn't laugh, and knowing all the while that she wouldn't. I felt an urge to cover myself, to return to the safety of my clothes. To distract myself further, I removed the last thing keeping me safe, placing both items on the ground beside her clothes. It earned me a whistle of approval from across the lake, and I grimaced in pleasure. It was the closest thing to a smile I could muster these days.

Unfettered by my clothes and their emotional burden; I ventured deeper into the murky, green water. It was colder here, partially submerged, than it had been at the surface, and I hitched my breath as the water licked at my hips.

My teeth chattering, I waded deeper and deeper until we were side by side. "Are you bloody insane? It's f-freezing!" I stuttered, hearing nothing but the clattering of my teeth. She laughed, slipping under the water to prove she wasn't as bothered by it as I was.

As she resurfaced, I kicked my feet, trying to stay afloat. Something from the depths of the water, obscured by the muck, tangled against my leg. It wrapped its fingers around my calf, pulling tight and forcing a shriek from my lungs.

"What was _that!?" _I gasped ignoring the blush on my cheeks as I twisted from its grip.

"A…grindy...low…" Lily wheezed through bouts of laughter. I drew my hand through the water, splashing it across her face in retaliation. It only earned me a splash in return, the cold droplets of water raining onto my head, splattering across my face. "It was probably grass. You almost didn't survive."

Splashing was no longer enough. I tackled her, the two of us colliding in the water, flesh pressed against flesh. I could feel her breasts pressed against me, her nipples hard either from the temperature or excitement, I wasn't sure, I hoped it was the latter. We surfaced and she kissed me despite the brine that covered my skin, the stench of whatever we had drug up with our movements. I kissed her back, tasting the water on her lips, contrasted with the cleanliness of toothpaste across her tongue.

My hand wandered further, gripping her ass tightly. She wound her legs around me, holding tight to my waist, a hand stroking my cock. I was tempted to invite her to the beach, to explore one another further, to coat our bodies in the dirt that rested at the roots of the trees canopying us, but we remained folded in one another's arms, our naked bodies intertwined so tightly I could no longer tell what was mine and what was hers.

I felt my erection furthering, hardening beneath her touch. Just when I went to ask her for more, she stopped. The kissing, too, ended as she pulled away, meeting my eyes. I stared back into the green layers of her gaze, to the red hair plastered around her face, and my heart throbbed inside my chest.

"I love you, you know?" Her words trembled, full of uncertainty, her gaze dropping from mine. I loved her too. _How could I not?_ She was more than beautiful, she was the smartest witch I knew. Unbelievably clever. The only one who ever dared to call me out. I loved her more than even I could imagine, more than the life beyond this moment..., but I couldn't find the words. They caught painfully in my throat. I was gaping, I knew it, and she tried to pull away, hurt that I had said nothing.

I pulled her close again, the lust of before melting into love. If I couldn't say it, perhaps I could make her understand. _Somehow._

The memories of the lake faded, and I found myself once again in the bedroom, trapped inside the mess I had created. Three words. I'd been unable to say three words. My tongue had formed much worse in my lifetime. I had cast curses, insults, but I could not utter those three simple words. I could not tell the only person important to me how I really felt, and now she was lost. Forever.

The spider returned, skittering across the picture that had gone limp in my hands, reminding me just how alone in this world I was. Unloved. I had lost her more than once, had betrayed her time and time again, and now my final chance was looming before me.

For her. _It had always been for her._

My hand tightened. I felt the edges of the photo wrinkling beneath my grasp, and I stood. My tears had dried long ago and somehow, amongst the heartache I had cast myself into, I found the strength I had been searching for.

I stepped away from the wreckage, leaving it as a testament to the state of my soul. I closed the door behind me, leaving nothing but a broken mess and an almost silent whisper.

"_I love you, too."_


End file.
